


Caged Bird

by Ratha_FireSong



Category: The Hobbit, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Cages, Forbidden Love, M/M, Seraphim, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratha_FireSong/pseuds/Ratha_FireSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin has seen his grandfather's madness, and hopes that someday that he shall be cured. Yet, during the King's Name Day, the Elvenking Thranduil gives him a gift; a seraph named Bilbo. So over come with desire for the creature Thrór locked Bilbo away only allowing the Durin family to have contact with the being. But Thorin feels love grow for the winged creature and together forge a forbidden love in secret. Bilbo soon tells Thorin that he was not meant to be a gift, but the end of the Kingdom of Erebor. What will Thorin do to protect his kingdom, and what will happen if their love was found out by the king?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caged Bird

**Author's Note:**

> _"Oh I have a secret love_  
>  We hide from the jealous sun  
> Until soldiers come..."
> 
>  
> 
> -Isolde's Song

The market of Dale had never been busier. People from all over Middle Earth had come to offer the crowned Dwarf king Thrór gifts, and celebrate his name day. The king’s son, and grandson walked about the market place making sure everything was going according to plan; animals and breads bought for the feast, barrels of Elvish wine and drawvish mead were delivered, and guests made it safely to Erebor. Thorin stood next to his father, standing tall and proud for it was a great honor to see many races of Middle Earth come see the spectacle of that was the city of the drawves. Since the fall of Moria, there was no city like it to match in beauty and wealth.

                But the prince’s eyes were dark, and his face drawn in a solemn expression even if there was pride in his heart. There was also the knowledge of his grandfather was growing quite sick – sick in his mind as his wealth grew. Thrór could do without power so as long as he had all the gold in the mountain. This hidden knowledge was entrusted to the Durin family line, and was a great shame in Thorin’s eyes for he had no love of gold, and greatly feared becoming sick with it as he grew older.

                Fili and Kili, Thorin’s overzealous nephews, laughed and joked with the Men, Elves and Dwarves passing by the welcoming party. There young eyes shone bright with excitement since this was the first time such a party had come to their home. Thorin only smiled softly at the two troublesome, yet innocent youths who did not know what troubled their family in the darkness.

                “It is a fine day for a party,” Thráin remarked to his son. “I have a feeling the festivities will go on for a few days, don’t you think?”

                “Aye,” was the only reply Thorin gave.

                Was this party all Thrór thought about as his father grew worse by the weeks? Throin knew that it was his idea to honor his grandfather with such an event to try, and bring out what was left of him, but he feared that as the sickness grew, the great King Under the Mountain withered away. He had advised against this telling his father that it would only make him drunk on his power and greed, but he would not hear of it.

                Sighing to himself, Thorin left his father’s side, went to walk by the docks find peace.

                An hour had gone by, and Thorin watched the lights glitter up in the mountain; his kingdom. Would it fall to the madness that his grandfather brought to their family? He didn’t know. Deep down he hoped that it would not, even though he knew hoping was just a dream that could never be reached. His deep thoughts never gave him peace, or rest.

                “You think too deeply Thorin, and you will be swallowed by your own mind.”

                Thorin turned quickly to find Gandalf standing there, a pipe held in his hand, rings of smoke coming from his mouth. The old wizard was a welcomed sight to him, and he just smiled at his old friend.

                “But if I do not think of them, than whom else shall?” Thorin said as he put his hands on his hips. “While everyone thinks of parties and gifts for my grandfather, I think of the safety of my home – my kingdom.”

                “When Thrór passes, you shall be upon his throne. And a wise king the world has ever seen,” the old man chuckled, and pat the prince’s shoulder gently. “But do not despair; a party was what I have been waiting for. I believe your nephews have been bothering me enough about seeing my fireworks.”

                “Ah, Gandalf’s amazing firework display,” Throin laughed and walked with his friend towards the road. “It will feel like when I was their age again.”

                “That must have been a long time.”

                Thorin and Gandalf laughed with each other as they made their way up the road towards the mountain pass. The prince’s heart was lifted for the wizard’s council was always welcomed to him – even if the old man was as stubborn as he was. He had been through many perils with Gandalf by his side, and he knew he would soon have more to come if this sickness was allowed to let live anymore.

~ ~ ~

                The great hall was a glaze of lights, and the royal family sat at the head with Thrór seated upon his stone throne. Dancers and performers all moved about gracefully as the two dwarven princes played their fiddles with the small band. Nori was treating the Elvish children to small tricks he had learned during his travels, and Bofur was juggling plates with skill.

                Thorin allowed Gandalf to be seated next to him as an honored guest at the royal table with no arguments from his father, or the king. Gandalf had given them no reason to turn against him in spite – yet. Sooner, or later that wizard would do something daft in Thorin’s eyes.

                “Fili is turning out to be quite a charming prince,” the wizard remarked warmly.

                “Yes, but he is as much trouble as is his younger brother,” Thorin let out a small groan. “You can’t believe the pranks they pull. Just the other day they let loose a box full of jumping spiders on some dwarf maidens. I fear they will never be wed!”

                Gandalf had a twinkle in his eye as he looked at Thorin, and turned to look at Fili and Kili. The brother’s eyes would lay on each other for just a moment, and one could feel the depth of their love for each other. Thorin knew it would be a small problem, but there never was much argument over a dwarf choosing another male as his One. The boys were intertwined together, and not their grandfather, nor their uncle could pull them away. To do so would be a grievous sin. 

                “They are good boys,” Thorin smiled at his nephews when they turned, and waved at him happily. “Good princes for the line of Durin. Those boys are the hope of this kingdom.”

                Trumpets sounded, and all looked up at the entrance to see who had interrupted the celebrations. Thorin stood up as he saw the armed guards of the Greenwood with their king and prince; Thranduil and Legolas. The grace was hard to look away from, but Thorin could see through their beauty. They were the enemies of Erebor many years ago, but through a treaty made by his grandfather there was peace between their lands. As much as the prince wanted to trust them, he could see the same greed in the Elvenking’s eyes as Thrór.

                “Thanduil, great king of the Greenwood,” Thrór raised his horn to the pair as they came at the foot of his throne. “You are welcomed guests in my house. Join our celebrations!”

                Dwarves and Men raised their own horns with a cheer since they all knew of the tension between these two kings. As long as the peace held there was no war.

                “You honor us greatly, King Under the Mountain,” Thranduil bowed his head, and gestured his hand towards the front. “But it would not be proper to join unless I had a gift to offer first.”

                “Gifts can wait,” Thorin said before receiving a scowl from the king.

                “I am afraid this one cannot. It is very important that the king sees it now,” There was something in Thranduil’s eyes Thorin did not like at all. What was he planning?

                The Elven prince clapped his hands, and was greeted by four guards carrying a large object upon poles draped in cloth so none could see inside. It was a strange object that made Thorin wish for his sword, but as he felt around his waist he had realized he had left it in his rooms as per orders from his father. Gandalf placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder to assure him that nothing would harm his family if it came to it.

                The domed shaped objected was set down in front of the throne and royal table. The dining hall was hushed and wide eyed waiting to see what the king had brought. With a flick of his wrist, Thranduil pulled the silk cloth from the object to reveal an elegant cage, and locked inside was a figure dressed in a simple deep blue tunic and trousers. Thorin held his breath as the person lifted his head, and blue on blue gaze locked for an instant. Answering to the snap of the king’s fingers, the young man rose to his feet, and two honey golden wings spread behind him. The guests gasped in awe at the sight, and even Thrór had no words for this beauty locked in the cage.

                Thorin, although shocked by the set of wings, kept his eyes upon the figure’s face. His skin was soft and light as if he had never gone out into the sunlight and his head was crowned in dark warm honey curls. The elves crowned him with a silver crescent only intensifying the creatures blue eyes. Whoever this person was, Thorin felt his beating heart ripped from his chest. All of the Valar could have not made such a stunning being as this one who stood before him.

                “A seraph,” Gandalf whispered. “An ancient being of the Valar…how did Thranduil get his hands upon this being?”

                Throin could hear that Gandalf’s tone was teetering upon a rage that he did not understand. The very air around the wizard was charged making it hard to breath.

                “This is my gift to you great king,” Throin turned back to the Elvenking as he spoke. “A great being called the seraph. They are very rare to find now, but I have given your very own to keep. They are known to have the gift of song and music.”

                Thrór slowly withdrew from his stone throne, walked down the steps towards the cage. The seraph watched the dwarf move ever closer to the bars until he clutched the silver poles. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened, eyes only on the creature that lay inside.

                “Come here,” the king whispered, beckoning with his hand. “Come to your master.”

                The seraph only trembled in fear, and Throin felt a great urge to run up between his grandfather and the frightened creature. After looking at Thranduil, the winged man carefully made his way to the king, and allowed him a better look at him. There was a mixture of lust and desire flashing in Thrór’s eyes, and the prince suddenly felt sick to his stomach. It was the same look the king would give his gold when he was feverish with his sickness. He looked upon this being like of his possessions.

                “Tis’ a worthy gift great king,” Thrór whispered softly, and one of his hands caressed the being’s chin. “I shall treasure him always. You have my gratitude.”

                Thranduil just bowed wearing a secret smile upon his lips before turning away with his son. Legolas only looked back at the seraph with concern, but masked his true nature before his father turned to look upon him. Both the dwarvish and elvish princes knew that the seraph was handed over to a king that devoured all treasure.

                “Thorin,” the king called with a husky voice. “Have my new golden bird taken to the treasure room, and feed him. Allow no one to come near him!”

                Throin only nodded before leaving with four dwarven guards to carry the silver cage away from the hall.

~ ~ ~

                The cage was set down upon one of the few flat surfaces Thorin could find sine the whole hall was filled with mounds of gold. The being had not spoken a word to him since they left the celebration, but he could tell he was holding back tears. He felt pity and great shame for this creature that lived in a cage. He looked like someone that must be allowed to walk where he pleased, and laugh under the sun with joy in his heart. All he saw was a caged animal that had been tamed over the years in captivity.

                The guards brought bread, fruit and water to the prince, and left the pair alone in the treasure room as requested. Throin moved closer to the cage only to watch the seraph move away from him in fear.

                “I will not hurt you,” he said in a soft voice. “Here, you should eat something.”

                He opened the door slowly, and laid the plate of food at the young man’s feet. He watched him look at the food carefully before crawling over to take the bread in his hands. He ate a few mouthfuls of sweet bread, and turned to devour the apples and pears that were given to him. The water was all, but gulped down. Thorin could see under the tunic that the seraph had not been fed properly even though he appeared to be clean. He was much smaller than the race of Men, even smaller than the dwarves. Although his body was boney, he still had curves, and an air of grace that was not matched even by the Elves.

                “Do you have a name?”

                The creature looked up at him for a moment before answering softly. “My name is Bilbo,” he bowed his head, and allowed his wings to stretch out from their folded position behind his back. Thorin’s heart was caught in his throat at the sight that he had to turn his gaze away. After a moment or two, he turned his eyes back to Bilbo, and gave him a friendly smile.

                “My name is Thorin, and you will not be harmed here in Erebor,” he said offering his hand to the winged being. “I promise Bilbo.”

                The seraph took the prince’s hand, and they both gasped at the contact between them. Their hands, rough and smooth, fit almost perfectly together, and their gazes held for what seemed like eternity. Thorin was overwhelmed with this warmth all over his body, and his heart pounding hard as if he were going to go into battle. A war cry threatening to rise from his chest, yet it was only a murmur of awe.

                Alas, even though this feeling he was discovering for the first time was filling him up to the brim, there was darkness behind it. For Bilbo belonged to the King Under the Mountain, not Thorin. And if the prince knew anything about his grandfather, he knew of the dark jealousy that he held if anyone even touches one of his beloved treasures. It was dangerous to even think that he wanted to take Bilbo for himself. The act itself would be treason and death no matter his rank. 

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on the song _Isolde's Song_ by Karliene. Please go buy the song! It is beautiful. 
> 
> Also I love the thought of forbidden love between Thorin and Bilbo.


End file.
